


A penny for your...

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Image, Exposure, Hanni is a psychiatrist but also a painter, M/M, Nude Modeling, Painting, Psychoanalysis, Will is Confused, addiction to danger, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will spots an ad that he hopes is an opportinity for quick money. He starts posing for Hannibal's sketches and in the meantime solves his issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Will Graham’s eyes were wandering over the letters of the offer on the advertising pillar. Any second now the man would have the telephone number imprinted on his brain. God and a few passers-by only knew how long Will had been standing there, transfixed and staring at the ad, while his mind tried to compile a list of pros and cons.

Graham needed money.

But to be entirely honest, there was a post waiting for him in the law enforcement. The Federal Bureau of Investigation offered him a job as a teacher, given his background and rich resume. Will was hesitant to accept right away and stated he would give that some thought.

And there he was, standing by the advertising pillar, gaping like a fish at a unusual offer that had caught his eye.

How ridiculous it was that he was actually considering calling the number. With his experience and everything that was said on the news those days, no one should be bold or stupid enough to fall for such tricks; especially not Will, who had worked in law enforcement before and was aware of all the horrible consequences of recklessness.

That was probably the ultimate factor while assessing the danger and Will decided to give it a try.

Thirty minutes later, Graham was standing on the other side of the street from the given address. He had his hands in his pockets and eyed the door to the warehouse.

The neighbourhood was fairly quiet, with few people walking by – doing shopping or walking their dogs. Will kept his phone in the breast pocket of his jacket, ready in case of any imminent danger, and crossed the street.

To his surprise, Will found a button by the door, which he pushed and heard a bell right after. Time seemed to slow down as every second was lingering and Graham held his breath. He did not know what to expect or what to say even if someone greeted him.

He did not have the chance to think about it as the door opened, revealing a slightly older man dressed in a dark shirt and what must have been suit pants. The man was taller than Will, which made his straight and noble posture even more intimidating.

“Yes?” The man acted surprised, as if he genuinely had no idea why anyone would visit him.

“Um, hi. I found this address in an ad and-”

“Oh.” The man looked at Will – his shoes, legs, hips, waist and chest, up to his face. A warm, satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he moved the door wider, inviting Graham inside. “Please, come in.”

Will hesitated, peeking inside to get a taste of what was waiting for him. The uncertainty was tugging at his stomach but he stepped inside, constantly shifting his eyes and paying attention to the other man’s actions. Were he to attack Will in any way, he’s be ready to react and avoid the punch or whatever there could come.

“Forgive me my manners. My name is Hannibal Lecter.” The man outstretched his hand and Will shook it carefully.

“I’m Will.” Graham said in a low tone, wary of giving the stranger his real name.

“Ah, Will.” The man seemed to be enjoying the way the name sounded in his mouth. “Please, come further inside. I would like to show you my work shop and have a short conversation before we decide on anything.”

Lecter led the way through a corridor until the men found themselves in a huge room, with one wall almost completely made of glass. The sun was coming through it and reflected on all the surfaces, creating a stunning mosaic.

Will spotted an armchair in the corner and a few paintings on the wall opposite the huge window. Everything looked neat, given that this was supposed to be a place where an artist could surrender to his most wild fantasies. This was where paint could roam free and where no limits should remain.

“I tried to be as precise as I possibly could in the advertisement.” Hannibal began as he watched Will shift his gaze form one item to another. “So as you already know, I’m looking for a man, preferably in his thirties, who would be willing to pose for me. I require the person to be comfortable with posing nude. Initially, I intend to use the man as a model for my sketches but were I to find the man uniquely stunning in his beauty and personality, I may want to use his image in my more professional paintings.”

Graham was listening carefully to every word, looking for loopholes or any hints as to the man’s hidden intentions, while he was still walking around the room and pretending to be infinitely interested in various brushes and containers with the paint.

Will had been aware of the whole ‘posing nude’ thing from the ad. He had already counted that in the factors of whether or not to show up.

“The payment I proposed was a hundred dollars per hour. I believe that’s a suitable amount of money but if you wish to haggle…?”

“I’m fine with that arrangement.” Will cut it short.

Then, there was a moment of silence between the men as Will was wondering which question he needed answered immediately and which could wait. Hannibal was observing him, almost studying him like an object, already preparing a mental image he wanted to portray and carry on the canvas.

“How often would you need me?” Will looked up at one of the paintings and reached out to it. He didn’t dare to touch but traced a path with his finger barely an inch over the rotting stump and the birds mourning their forgotten and lost nest.

“Three times a week. On Mondays between six and eight in the evening, Thursdays between noon and two and on Saturdays whenever you’re free. I’m afraid only the Saturdays are negotiable.”

Will nodded and pretended to be thinking hard on his own responsibilities and schedule, which was empty throughout the month. Hannibal’s suggestion added up to four hundred bucks a week plus the Saturdays which might mean almost anything, and Will couldn’t really say no to that. Besides, he could still accept that post in Quantico.

One hundred dollars for an hour of sitting for a sketch. Or standing, or whatever. At that point Will didn’t mind standing on his head. Naked.

“Is this supposed to be a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of thing? Are we going to stay in silence while you draw me or would we talk…?”

“I’m glad you asked. Although I find you compelling and attractive, I can’t imagine hiring you with no knowledge of you and I suppose you would also like to get to know me a bit more, wouldn’t you?”

Will nodded and licked his lips in anticipation.

“I wasn’t precise when I introduced myself. I’m doctor Hannibal Lecter. I work as a psychiatrist and painting is mostly my hobby but I have exhibited some of my works under an alias so I am fairly serious about that venture, in case you were sceptical. I enjoy classical music but if that would be a trouble, I am willing to listen to jazz or anything not… squeaking. I’m open to conversations about almost anything.”

“Is it possible for me to find your works online? I mean, I’d like to see what you felt bold enough to exhibit.”

Hannibal’s smile betrayed his pride and amusement.

“I’m not exactly sure if anyone captured the paintings to publish the copies online.”

“What alias did you use?

“Roman Fell.” Hannibal answered immediately and took a careful step closer to his guest. “So? Is there anything more you’d like to know or tell me?”

Will’s mouth opened in an attempt to say something but the words wouldn’t come out. The man glanced at the empty canvas near him and at the pedestal next to it, possibly for a model.

“When do we start?”

The sudden laughter made Will shiver and fear he was wrong to assume they made a deal.

“What do you do, Will? Do you have a job?” Hannibal asked and Will understood his mistake. The man wasn’t careless and he wanted to learn about Will as well before agreeing to anything.

“I’m actually between jobs right now.”

“I see. So that would be your sole source of income?”

“For now. Is that a problem?”

“As long as you don’t come and beg me for down payment or a raise of the accepted sum.”

“That won’t happen. And I’m not… I’m not a beggar.”

Lecter nodded and looked at Will, once again, from his feet to his face. Smile appeared on his on face as he outstretched his hand for Will to shake as a sign of agreement.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday and since you’re currently unemployed I believe I can demand to see you at four?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be paying you after each sitting.”

Will nodded, looked around the room again and left the warehouse.

This could be interesting. This could provide Will with money for at least a week. Hopefully, and if, Hannibal didn’t get bored or disappointed with him, Will could pose for him for months. Who wouldn’t want a job where all you had to do was simply sit or stand? Even if with fully uncovered and…

Graham didn’t mind that. His shyness was placed in another area. Surprisingly, he was not bothered by nudity – in the media or his very own. He believed his body could not display as much as his words and what he was truly afraid of revealing were his thoughts and emotions.

Reluctantly, Graham started creating a mental list of reasons why he should accept the FBI’s offer. It turned out that on the other side there were only two counterarguments, which Graham believed to be of lesser importance. Nevertheless, Will pushed the offer aside and sighed contently. He had something else to occupy his mind for the time being.

*     *     *

“Hello, Will.” Lecter greeted as he opened the door for his guest.

Graham cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped inside. He was wearing a plaid shirt and trousers made of fluffy fabric –  clothes that would be comfy and easy to take off.

The men walked into the studio and Will was once again taken aback by how greatly prepared the other man was. With all the paints, brushes put in a straight line, pencils and a pile of white sheets of paper, the room looked like a professional studio.

“I’ll be doing just a few sketches today.” Hannibal explained and pointed at the armchair in the corner for Will to sit in. “I would like to work on your face, you jaw, eyes and hair. These are of great importance and very difficult to capture properly.”

When Will sat in the armchair, Hannibal reached for his sketchbook and one of the pencils lying on a small round table. Lecter glanced at Will, then at the door, and finally sat down on a stool.

Will realised that even though he was placed in the corner of the room, he was fairly well-lit due to the huge window on the wall next to him. His cheeks were slightly pinkish as he had walked rather fast all the way to the warehouse and he still was recovering. His breath was shallower than usual but his heartbeat had already returned to normal.

“I would offer you something to drink but that would disturb your pose and the fine lines of your still face. Later, though, when we will make a break.”

“I’m fine for now.”

“Good.”

Hannibal looked down at the paper on his lap and started with a few moves of his steady hand. He was planning how to organize the place on the sheet of paper and then looked up at Will. Lecter’s eyes were focused solely on his model, in a way that showed a great interest.

Being the centre of attention was never something Will enjoyed; actually, he loathed when he heard his name or when someone pointed at him. He didn’t mind the rumours and he didn’t care what people were saying about him; he only didn’t want to hear. Even a minor success during his education was troubling because Will didn’t wish to be picked out from the crowd.

It was quiet in the room; even the noises from the street didn’t get there. Will occupied his mind by looking around and imagining stories behind every painting on the wall. He was fidgeting with his hands, unable to stay still and somewhat embarrassed.

“Perhaps I could offer you a book to read, to keep you entertained?” Hannibal asked but kept pushing the pencil over the paper, recreating Will’s jawline and trying to lightly mark the vein on the man’s throat.

“But I would have to look down. Wouldn’t that spoil my pose?”

“I’m leaving the eyes for last.”

Will nodded and looked around. There were no books in the room.

“So what can you offer me?”

“Is there something in particular you would enjoy?”

Graham laughed because there was no way Hannibal had all the books in the world and could indulge him in almost anything. He thought of the titles that Lecter might have been in possession of and smiled.

“Do you have any album with paintings that you like the most? I could take a look.”

Hannibal’s face twitched, a substitution for a smile, and the man excused himself when he left the room. Left to his own devices, Will considered whether or not he should get up and check the sketch that Hannibal placed on the table. Certainly the man would notice the difference in pose so Will decided it was not worth the risk.

Graham looked through the window instead, staring at the yard, where the grass was high and uncared for. It was obvious that Hannibal was pedantic and cared about his environment, so the yard must have belonged to someone else. Otherwise, Lecter would have made sure the grass was neatly cut. He would places brushes in a straight line after all.

“Here.” Lecter handed Will a fairly thick book and then sat again on the stool and resumed drawing. “Mythology fascinates me and the artists’ interpretations are rather educational, sometimes also amusing.”

Will’s fingers along with his eyes traced the letters of the title. The man turned the front page and started flicking through. There was an image of the Narcissus, Leda and the Swan, Icarus. The illustrations were accompanied by descriptions but Will assumed he would only focus on the paintings.

“These are amazing.”

“Are you familiar with any?”

Immediately, Will looked up at Hannibal. His expression was hurt, offended even.

“They are quite famous depictions of the scenes from mythology. Besides I finished basic education. I also graduated from university.”

Hannibal appeared embarrassed about his impolite assumption but he quickly recovered and continued the conversation.

“What did you study?”

“Forensic science.”

At that, Lecter did not hide his surprise.

“And yet you find yourself unemployed, come to me and pose, as your sole source of income?”

“It’s complicated.” Will says in lack of proper explanation.

“It always is, isn’t it?” Lecter’s smile could not be wider even if he tried as the man draws a fine line of Will’s neck. “Well, well. Aren’t you a fascinating person.”

“What about you? A psychiatrist who draws people naked as a way of spending his free time. You’re not exactly in your right mind, are you?”

Then, it was Hannibal’s turn to look offended, but truthfully, he was mostly shocked at Will’s appalling ignorance. So much for calling himself educated.

“It has nothing to do with sexuality. It’s merely appreciation of the human body. And there is a difference between ‘nude’ and ‘naked’, I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

Will closed his eyes and took a deeper breath to calm himself. He knew he was being rude; he knew he was trying to repay the man for a simple misunderstanding.

“Sorry.” Graham mumbled, then put away the album and sat still in the armchair. He was going to finish the job, get the money and leave. He’d consider whether or not he should come again.

“I apologise, too.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room as a third party and Will was sick of it. So much so that he brought a thought to his mind and got lost in it entirely. He wished to be as far away as he could.

“If you’re going to stay, I believe we have time for you to explain me how your current situation is complicated.”

“Time is not the issue here.”

“What is, then?” Hannibal kept talking while his hand was tracing paths over the paper, drawing lines and figures, trying to recreate Will’s beauty moles and a small cut on his right cheek.

“Are you going to psychoanalyze me and my decisions?”

Lecter smiled and faced his model. He truly looked at him as at his interlocutor, not a mere object or a point of reference.

“You feel there is a difference between how I perceive you than how anyone else would?”

“As a psychiatrist you know patterns to follow, rules and theories to apply when you talk to people. You see more and interpret more broadly.” Will stated as he eyed the sketchbook in Hannibal’s hands. “Unless you’re a lousy psychiatrist.”

Lecter chuckled.

“I like to think that I’m not.”

“There’s often a difference between how you wish for the state of things to be and how they really are.”

Hannibal nodded and kept shaping Will’s face on the paper.

“So how the things really are, Will?”

“Not bad enough for me to beg or accept any offer that comes along.” Will lied.

“What are you doing here, then?”

A sigh escaped Will’s mouth. It must have seemed weird that a man of his status, with higher education and with a post patiently waiting for him, Will would spend time posing for a sketch.

“You’re a psychiatrist. Tell me.”

“You’re afraid.”

Will’s eyes widened but he remained silent, curious what else Hannibal would diagnose him with.

“Fear can have many shapes. It can motivate as well as paralyse. There is one of each kind in you and none is stronger than the other so you constantly hesitate. You must have hesitated before you came here for the first time but the fear of responsibility overwhelmed you so you agreed to my deal.”

“Wow.” One hundred percent accuracy. Will supported his head on his palm and stared at Lecter, who was correcting the last elements in his drawing.

Hannibal paid him when they were finished and saw his model to the door. Two hundred dollars for simple sitting, a therapy session and for offending as well as being offended. Will might just need to reconsider his life choices.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hannibal’s hand moved to draw the outlines of his model’s arms. The pencil was moving down the paper, shaping muscles, but what Lecter was really wishing for was to take a brush and figure out all the colours of Will’s skin. There were moles he desired to emphasise and create a map that would certainly lead to some forgotten treasure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly utterly surprised it got so many notes o.O  
> i'm certain i'll screw it up

“I’ve been thinking.” Will announced while he was unbuttoning his shirt. Hannibal had asked him to remove it this time because he had been practising drawing the face last time right until the next meeting and now he needed a new point of reference. ‘Only the shirt.’ Graham was not even surprised when the man asked him to undress. And he was not ashamed or bothered in any way to reveal his upper body.

“About?”

Hannibal was already settled on the stool, deciding on which pencil to pick and then sharpening it. He was not looking at Will, genuinely not interested in the man’s uncovered flesh.

“I was wondering if you could offer me some advice.”

“I’m willing to give it a try.”

Will undid the last button and shook off the piece of clothing. He discarded it on a rack in the opposite corner of the room and went back to the armchair he had sat in last time.

“Oh no, I need to you to stand this time. I need to capture your stomach muscles and they are differently shaped when a person sits.”

Graham grimaced at the thought of aimless standing for two hours but moved away from the armchair and did as was told. He fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest but did not know what else to do with himself.

“So what do you need my advice about?” Lecter asked as he started recreating Will’s broad shoulders on paper.

“Um, you asked me how things were and you were surprised when I told you that this,” Will pointed at his revealed pale chest, “is how I earn money. At least for the time being.”

Hannibal nodded, purposefully avoiding Will’s face and looking at the model’s upper body.

“Well, the situation could be different. I’ve been offered a job, a decent job, as a teacher. But the thing is, it would be a post at Quantico, the-”

“FBI’s headquarters.” Hannibal finished, making Will frown and open his mouth slightly in surprise. “I have a friend there. Well, not exactly working there, but the man in charge often asks my friend to be a consultant on a case.”

“Oh.”

“So what’s wrong with the job? I don’t think you refused because of the mile distance.”

“No, I… I have a rich history with the FBI and the law enforcement in general. I was a cop for some time, then I worked as an agent. There was an accident and they had me retired. But they offered me to stay.”

“As a teacher.”

Will nodded.

“Is it not enough?”

“What?”

“Are you hesitating because you feel it’s not enough? That you deserve better?”

“No, it’s… Actually, it sounds pretty good. Comfortable. Safe. Being a teacher would be great.” Graham described while Hannibal remained silent. Obviously, there was something that had made Will reject the offer as of yet. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last time. About fear.”

“Yes?”

Hannibal’s hand moved to draw the outlines of his model’s arms. The pencil was moving down the paper, shaping muscles but what Lecter was really wishing for was to take a brush and figure out all the colours of Will’s skin. There were moles he desired to emphasise and create a map that would certainly lead to some forgotten treasure.

Hannibal became so absorbed in his work that Will’s voice escaped him almost completely. The man blinked and regained his focus; fortunately, at the best possible moment – when Will summed up his doubts.

“I’m not sure how far this responsibility will go and I’m certainly not ready to settle with a cosy job. I guess my point is that I crave the thrill of danger, even if it’s… well, dangerous.”

Yes. Will had come here and would come because, despite all his experience and training, he needed to feel the rush of adrenaline. The money was just a bonus. A bonus he was also in need for, given the lack of stable job. But his posing for Hannibal was meant to be first and foremost an adventure.

“Then why not return to being a cop?” Hannibal asked while his eyes focused on the model’s collarbone.

Will had fairly broad shoulders and his posture seemed noble, even when he hunched awkwardly. He was a slim man, with just a hint of pot belly but with a good exercise regime he might work in advertisement.

“They wouldn’t have me back. I’ve already told you I was involved in a rather unpleasant accident and I would probably never pass the psychological evaluation, given what I’ve just told you about my fondness of hazard.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the occasional involvement in dangerous situations. Life would be positively boring if no harm was ever a threat.”

“Do you enjoy the possibility of peril?” Will asked, partly alarmed and partly relieved. He was not being judged but Lecter was not offering sympathy. It felt as if a foundation for trust and connection could be built between them, depending on Hannibal’s answer.

Will watched as the other man smirked and, breaking from his work, held Will’s gaze. They were looking in each other’s eyes as if the conversation was continuing between their minds. Then, Graham blinked too hard and it broke the contact. Hannibal resumed the drawing, leaving the question unanswered.

“You know, you promised me liquor last time. I would really go for that.”

Without looking up or stopping, Hannibal asked what Will would like to drink. Then, he stood up, put away the sketchbook and left the studio.

Will rubbed his stomach and heard it rumble. “Shush!” Graham scolded his own body for betraying him. Thankfully, Hannibal did not hear that.

The man returned with two glasses filled with whiskey, one of which he handed to Will and the other placed on the small table by his stool. Lecter smoothed his trousers as he took a seat and waited for Will to finish the drink. Only then did he resume drawing.

“Aren’t you drinking?” Will asked, pointing at the glass by Hannibal.

“I’d like to finish the sketch first.”

Will supposed the man wanted to remain sober and his vision and hands steady. But the pleasant burn in his throat and a warm feeling spreading inside Graham made him relax. It also seemed to have made him bolder.

“Am I standing correctly? Exactly as I was before?”

“Certainly. It’s perfect, Will.”

The name in Graham’s ears caused him to smile. There was fondness and a strange feeling of familiarity coming from hearing the name uttered so gently and, in fact, uttered at all. Will still kept his distance and had not called Lecter by his name yet. Hannibal, on the other hand, appeared to like using Will’s name. He was a direct and open man, ready to broach every subject and cross every line. At least that sort of image was forming in Will’s mind.

“Look, I know we’re going to separate soon, when you get bored with me and find a new model, but I was wondering if you could tell me more about yourself? Just keep talking. I’m… I’d rather listen to something while I stand here, half-naked.”

Hannibal smiled as he looked up to glance at Graham’s chest. The gesture caused a blush creep up the man’s cheeks and neck.

“Our arrangement is, indeed, temporary, but I would not assume it to end soon. And definitely not with me bored with you. Actually, I believe I would like to paint you. However, I have to come up with a concept of the painting.”

Will’s eyes widened at the confession.

“Perhaps something dangerous.” Hannibal added with a spark in his eyes but no hint of mocking in his voice.

Graham could not imagine what Hannibal was thinking of and could not imagine a painting of him being dangerous while deprived of parts of his clothing. Maybe he would have to face danger while vulnerable and exposed?

Hannibal kept working on the sketch till their agreed two hours passed and then paid Will for his time.

*     *     *

On Thursday Hannibal announced he was between appointments and he would be sketching as a form of relaxation. Will took off his shirt again, nothing more, and stood where Hannibal pointed.

“Do you see any patients that are a lost cause?” Graham asked out of boredom.

“No one is a lost cause, Will. There are, naturally, people who can’t be cured or for whom therapy will not work but that does not mean they are doomed or destined to fail. I believe the best solution is to embrace one’s true nature rather than fight it. Even if others disapprove.”

“What if the law disapproves? What if someone’s true nature is being a cold-blooded murderer?”

“Are you speaking as a former police officer now?”

“No, I… Okay, maybe. But honestly, if someone admitted to you they committed a crime-”

“I cannot report them. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Would you try to stop this person? Would you despise them?”

Lecter smiled as he looked at Will, for the first time really looked at him as a man, not as his model. Whatever he had got into? Will was more than his body – he was a whole new world to discover. He was a child, curious of the clogs that made everything work, and he was a man – conscious and aware of various dilemmas.

“I don’t despise any of my patients. I shouldn’t and I don’t. And I don’t try to change people that come to me. I only want them to understand why they are the way they are.”

Graham noticed the little reference to his own words from their previous meeting and smiled. He felt weird, though, when he realised they were having a civilised conversation while he was partly naked. That realisation made him blush slightly and he ducked his head to hide it. However, as he looked down, he became all too aware of his upper body being revealed – his stomach not lean enough, his muscles barely seen, chest pale and with sparse hair.

That image had been never a cause for concern or shame. No one ever mentioned that he could look better so he was never bothered. He ate enough and exercised in form of walking or doing chores. There was a time, when he would take care of himself and stay in shape, namely when he was a police officer. Then, it all went to hell.

“Where did you find all of your previous models?” Graham asked.

“A few from advertisements, a few colleagues offered to pose for me. One model was my patient; naturally, after we had terminated our doctor-patient relationship.”

“Could it be the other way around? Would you have sessions with someone you drew naked?”

“Yes. I believe you noticed that we talk a lot and were you in need for therapy in the future, I’d know where to begin.” Lecter offered a smile from over his sketchbook. Then, as if nothing happened, he simply lost himself in the drawing.

“Where is that?” Will asked after a small pause of hesitation.

“Your fear, Will. It’s fascinating.” The man’s hand stopped and Hannibal’s eyes appeared empty as he was considering something. “Would you mind taking your pants off?”

Graham stared blankly at the man before him, then shrugged and unzipped his trousers. He pulled them down, stepped out of them and wondered where to put them.

Lecter stood up from his stool and approached his model. He took the pants from Will and placed them on the stool.

Left only in his underwear, Graham watched Hannibal assume a lost-in-thought pose. The man was staring at Will’s legs, his feet, ankles, knees, up to his thighs. Lecter grabbed his sketchbook abruptly, turned the page and began outlining Will’s body. It was a very rough sketch but, clearly, the man was developing a concept of how he wished to paint Will.

Apparently dissatisfied with his idea, Hannibal grunted and shook his head. He would have to think it through.

“Forgive my directness. You can put them back on.” Lecter handed Will his pants.

Graham did as was told and watched Hannibal sit on the stool once again, reaching for his pencil and turning the page back. He resumed his previous sketch.

“Back to the last topic – are you considering starting a therapy session?” Hannibal asked, absent-mindedly, while his hand moved over the page. Rarely, did he appear utterly focused on what he was saying.

“No. No, I… I don’t need one.”

“And what about the offer? To work as a teacher. Are you still considering it? Or have you come to a decision?”

“No. I only keep fantasising about a gig that would offer me a fortune and I would never have to work again.” Will chuckled at his own stupid dream and then scolded himself for telling that to a psychiatrist, who was at the very moment drawing his naked torso and whom Will had known for barely a week.

“And yet you claim you don’t need therapy.” Hannibal responded, amused. It was not a serious accusation. Everyone has their fantasies – some of them more and some less probable, but most of them not insane.

“Look, I know a job like that would offer me a sense of stability, financial and otherwise, and I’m probably gonna take it anyway. I just have to feel not quite responsible for the last time before I drown in the boredom and predictability of a nine-to-five job.”

“It will be an experience, like any other. I’m sure you’ll be able to find excitement or danger in it as well.”

“Perhaps in driving an hour every day. Who knows, accidents happen all the time.” Will replied humourless.

“Have you ever had an accident?”

“No.” Will cut the conversation with this one word, uttered more harshly than he had meant. There was an inexplicable anger growing inside him, which made him rude as well as aroused. Graham was glad when he counted down the minutes before he could be released free and paid for his ‘effort’.


	3. Chapter 3

Hannibal had promised to call and let Will know when he would need him. Graham was waiting till noon, reading and glancing at the tv from time to time. He had spent the whole previous day on deciding when he should call the Bureau.

At noon, his phone rang.

“Finally.” Will sighed, even though he had nothing else to do and waiting kept him on his toes. “Yes?”

“Hello, Will. It’s Hannibal.”

“I know.” Will rolled his eyes as his heart thumped in his chest. “When should I come?”

“I’d like to start at six.”

“Got it.”

Will scolded himself for sounding eager but he needed money and the two hours three times a week he spent posing for a man were a fine mental challenge. Graham had always thought of himself as a loner, that no one could understand him, and he gave up trying to make people like him. However, Hannibal seemed to be amused by his presence. He was not mocking him, only genuinely pleased to have him as a company.

Will appeared at the warehouse at six and knocked. It didn’t take half a minute before Hannibal opened the door with a wide smile.

“What is it?” Graham asked as the men were making their way to the studio.

“I’ve been working on the perfect concept for your painting.”

“And?”

“I’ve prepared a few sketches. But when you crossed the threshold, I knew it was all rubbish.”

Will frowned as he began removing his shirt. To his surprise, there was an odd sort of couch set where he used to pose. The piece of furniture looked like the one from movies with a cliché psychiatrist’s office, the one that a patient would lie on and talk about whatever was troubling them.

“This felt appropriate.” Lecter explained, smirking, pleased at his own joke. “I’d like you to remove your trousers as well and lie down.”

Hannibal sat on the stool and reached for his sketchbook. He had sharpened a few pencils so that he would be prepared but every time he saw Will, he desired to grab a brush, dip it in paint and carry the model’s life on the canvas.

Will half-lay on the couch and supported himself on his right elbow. He was looking in Lecter’s direction, feeling ridiculous. It would probably be better if he was fully naked, instead of keeping on his bluish briefs.

Hannibal didn’t seem as concerned, as he hummed, pleased at his model’s obedience. Then, he put down the sketchbook and stood up. He retrieved a large piece of crimson satin and approached the couch. Hannibal unfolded the material and threw it across Will’s middle. That way, the satin covered the most intimate part of the model, even if it was still confined in the briefs.

Lecter took a step back and watched the material fall to the ground, like a bloody waterfall. It looked amazing, with one exception – Will’s underwear was still visible under the fabric.

“I will need you to undress completely.”

Will nodded and reached under the satin to pull on the elastic of his briefs. He pushed them down and threw them in the opposite corner, covering himself with the crimson material.

“Perfect.” Hannibal eyed his model’s posture and the way the material lay on Will. The outline of the briefs was gone but it was replaced with the outline of Will’s penis. Lecter rolled his eyes, licked his lips and thought how to remedy the situation. He approached Will and fiddled with the material, changing its position so that nothing would be out of place.

Will started to feel uncomfortable and awkward as he lay there and observed how Hannibal adjusted the material around his dick. He didn’t touch Will, only the piece of satin, but it alarmed Will. Finally, after a moment, Hannibal seemed satisfied with the result and returned to his stool.

 _That_ was the image worth capturing and showing off. Hannibal decided he was ready. He reached for a pencil and started sketching on the canvas. When he would have the outline, he could focus on light and colours. Firstly, he needed Will to stay in place for the next couple of hours, which was a challenge.

Will yawned and sneezed and fiddled with his hair. The soft music Hannibal allowed was boring but if it was actually entertaining, then Will would probably have even more trouble with staying still.

“Are you warm enough?” Lecter asked after half an hour, genuinely concerned but not looking at Will’s face.

Only after hearing the question did Will realise he was naked but the room was quite warm. Hannibal must have taken care of the proper temperature. He knew he wanted Will naked.

“I’m fine.”

“When I’m done with the head, I could bring you something to eat and drink. Would you like that?”

“Yes, thank you.”

An hour into the process of sketching and Hannibal was finished with the upper half of Will’s body. He allowed his model to relax and stretch if he felt the need to. Then, Hannibal brought him a lilac robe to put on. It was fluffy and soft and it smelt like jasmine. Will wanted to bury his head in the robe and never crawl out of it.

Hannibal brought them also sushi and a bottle of white wine.

“Under normal circumstances, we would sit by a nice large table in my dining room, with a fire warming the space. But as it happens, we need to adjust to the conditions.”

Will smiled and reached for the glass with wine.

“No longer afraid it will mess up with your vision or steady hands?”

“It might work to our advantage this time.” Hannibal explained and clank his glass with Will’s. He sipped the wine with a genuine delight shown on his face. “I haven’t officially asked you yet – will you let me exhibit the painting when it’s finished?”

“Are you that certain it’s going to be good?”

“It will be more than good, Will. It will be perfect.”

“Then yes.”

Will chuckled and remembered his words about a big gig that would offer him enough money never to have to work again. Perhaps he wished that was his gig. He knew it was only wishful thinking but what if?

Will swallowed a piece of fish and washed it down with the wine. It was divine. Time seemed to stop at this place and the world seemed to stop. There was nothing more he needed or wanted, no responsibilities and no worries. There was no place he’d rather be.

“Do you like the concept I invented for you?” Hannibal asked, bringing Will back to the present moment.

“Me, naked, under a protective wing that’s a guardian of the last remains of decency?” Will seemed amused by the idea.

“It’s not a protective wing.” Hannibal explained as he sipped the wine. “This is the danger you represent.”

Will frowned. He glanced at the material left on the couch and then back at Hannibal. “How so?”

“Do you like the colour of the satin?” Lecter counterattacked.

“Yes, it’s… It looks like a pool of blood.” Will whispered as the realisation sank in. He was being portrayed as a man sprayed in blood, most likely not his own. And he was lying calmly on the couch, not in the slightest bothered by the fact, perhaps even proud of it, depending on what expression Hannibal would depict.

“Exactly. So, now do you like the concept I invented for you?”

“I… Yes.” Will breathed and watched Hannibal return to the stool. Time of their break was up and Will figured he needed to take the robe off.

As he did so, he kept his eyes on Hannibal, who did not seem interested in Will’s nude form before him. Naturally, he paid attention to the details as an artist but as a man he acted calculated, almost coldly. Lecter was first and foremost a professional.

Slightly disappointed, but only God knew why, Will grasped the material and lay down on the couch. Before he managed to settle comfortably, a warm hand was helping him wrap the satin properly around his waist.

“Are you going to fondle with my genitals again?” Graham asked a little too harsh to sound playful, but he had no intentions to accuse Hannibal of unethical behaviour. Yet, the words frightened Lecter and he took a step back.

“Forgive me, I was only trying to get the material right. I didn’t think I touched you and-”

“No, it’s okay. You didn’t. I was just… It was silly of me, sorry. You can fiddle with the material all you want.”

Hannibal smoothed the satin and turned to sit on his stool. When he wasn’t facing Will, he allowed himself to smirk.

For the next hour, Hannibal was sketching the lower part of Will’s body – his waist and pelvis and genitals covered by the crimson satin, his slender legs ending with slim and long feet. There were details that Hannibal preferred to leave for the next time, when he would inevitably wrap the material differently, creating wrinkles in different places.

The clock told eight but Will wasn’t bothered by that. He had nowhere to be, no one to be with, and frankly, he enjoyed posing for Hannibal. The room was warm, Will was shamelessly naked under the soft material that was covering only his junk, which he was sure Hannibal had already memorised, even if he only saw the outline of it and for the shortest moment.

“I think we’re done for today.” Lecter put away the pencil and looked at Will, who sighed, nodded and stood up from the couch.

Graham felt bold enough to discard the piece of satin on the couch and fully exposed marched to the rack where all his clothes were hanging. He knew Lecter was more interested in his sketch and his concepts and he was not looking. Yet, in the corner of his eye, Will spotted that Hannibal was sitting on his stool, with head turned directly towards Will.

As he bent and pulled up his pants, Will caught a glimpse of Hannibal and this time he was certain – Lecter was looking at him! Their eyes met briefly, but enough for Will to feel the heat in his cheeks and neck. He caught the man red-handed.

Will dressed up and approached Hannibal, who put his hand inside his pocket to take out two notes, a hundred dollars each. He saw Will to the door and stated he was looking forward to their next meeting.

*     *     *

Will couldn’t remember the last time there was a day like that – it was raining the whole Sunday, and nothing in particular happened. There was nothing interesting on the news and the movies the channels aired were boring and predictable. Graham felt sick and, indeed, he had to vomit twice.

Maybe it was the sushi he had eaten the previous day? Or the wine? Or his stomach going wild because he caught Hannibal staring at him while he was getting dressed!

Will spent the whole day in bed, unable to eat anything. He drank a lot of water and tea and tried to sleep.

He imagined the painting that Hannibal was working on became famous and Will didn’t have to call the FBI to accept their offer. He imagined himself dressed in a nice suit, walking around galleries all over the country, as people recognised him as Hannibal’s model. It was a magnificent vision, but a dream nevertheless.

In reality, Will had to pick up the phone one day and call his boss. And that day would come soon, now that he had promised himself he would only finish the gig with Lecter.


	4. The last gig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so  
> for whoever was reading it - i'm sorry it took so long  
> i actually wrote this chapter in the last three days but the time before that, let me tell you... it was a disaster  
> i don't want to make excuses but i want to justify why this had to wait  
> i had no willpower, no will to live, nothing  
> now, it's a little better and i hope to return to writing (as terrible as i am at that)  
> so, once again, I'M SORRY

This time, when Will was undressing, he deliberately did not look away, but stood proudly by the couch and started by slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he hung it on the rack and proceeded with the pair of jeans. He made a show of it. Firstly, he unbuckled his belt, all the while acting relaxed and bold.

Hannibal seemed undisturbed and, after a moment, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was supposed to be a sign of time passing and him being unproductive but Will chose to believe it was all an act.

The pants being off, Will gripped the elastic of his briefs and looked up to check if Lecter was watching. He was not. His eyes were focused on the various paint colours and the crimson satin waiting for Will on the couch.

Graham coughed gently and put a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. According to plan, Hannibal turned to look at his model with curiosity and concern. At that moment, Will smiled apologetically and murmured that he was feeling fine. There was no need to turn up the heat and the cough was not caused by the fact that he had been lying naked for two hours on Saturday.

Having Hannibal’s eyes on him, Will pushed down the briefs and hung all his clothes on the rack. He approached the couch and lifted the piece of fabric to wrap it around himself. In a blink of an eye, Hannibal was ready to help his model. His hands were warm and steady as he manoeuvred the material around Will’s hips.

Graham fiddled around, purposefully messing with the satin, until Hannibal decided he’d had enough and placed his palm on Will’s thigh. “Stay still.”

The hand felt hot as fire and Will was surprised to see the material still in one piece when Hannibal took a step back. He had never touched Will, not like that, and Graham knew that all his blood was speeding through his veins straight to his cheeks, neck and his crotch. The last thing would be difficult to hide so Will gave up the seduction, not to be too obvious.

“I see your pursuit of dangerous positions is far from over, Will. I assume you still haven’t called the Bureau to accept their offer?”

“No, I haven’t. And what do you mean by-”

“You’re teasing me.” Lecter explained and, seeing a feigned look of confusion on Will’s face, he continued. “We’re adults. I know what you’re doing, what you’re trying to achieve.”

Will frowned, still pretending that he had no idea what Hannibal was talking about. Yet, he could not help the smirk that curved his lips. He felt triumphant. “Am I wrong in thinking that you’re not immune to my charms? I saw you look.”

“I have to look. That’s what I pay you for – to sit for me while I look and sketch.”

“Can you draw without looking? Or do you need to have a point of reference?” Will asked, scolding himself for changing the subject. But his curiosity would not rest until he knew.

“I prefer drawing something that I’ve already seen.”

“You’ve seen me. I’m sure you could finish the paining without me.”

“So maybe I just enjoy having you here.” Hannibal suggested as his hand dragged the brush over the canvas, giving life and colour to the model’s hair. “Exposed, vulnerable, yet dangerous to lay eyes on.”

“Why?”

Hannibal smiled and tilted his head. It seemed as if he did not understand what Will asked. Then, he spoke, in a very low tone, like a voice coming from within the walls or the other room. “Because you don’t belong to anyone. You own yourself. You don’t depend on anything or anyone.”

“That’s not exactly true. I still need money, I still need food. Right now, I depend on you and your willingness to pay me for having me here, while you could easily finish the painting and find a new model.”

“You know, Will, there is a part of you that I haven’t seen yet.” Hannibal pointed at Will’s junk covered by the crimson material with the brush he was holding. “And even if I saw it, there would be still so much more to discover, because you have your own story, one that I would like to hear. I look – I’m an artist and I’m a man, but I also want to listen. Are you not aware that seduction has its consequences?”

“Is this seduction?”

“What else is it? Was it not seduction when you bent, your curves revealed and tempting, and checked whether I was watching? Was it not seduction when you undressed slowly, emphasising every move and every piece of flesh you were uncovering?”

Will’s cheeks reddened, he was compromised. At least he knew Hannibal was aware of his little game.

“So do you want to admit that I seduced you?”

“You most definitely tried hard.” Hannibal said and chuckled softly, amused by his equivoque. Will’s gaze moved lower, abandoning Hannibal’s eyes, until he noticed he was half-hard and that was the fact so amusing to Hannibal.

Graham was not done teasing and even though he did not mean to be disrespectful or troublesome, he shifted on the couch, making the piece of satin change its curves and angles. The action was not missed but Hannibal decided to dismiss it for the time being. He was more busy with mixing the paint to obtain Will’s hair colour.

They remained silent for the next few minutes, as Hannibal continued filling the contours with colour and making the drawing come to life. Will couldn’t see how the drawing was transmogrifying into a beautiful painting but he could infer as much from the expression on Hannibal’s face. The man was absorbed in his work and almost enchanted by his own craft.

It felt as if all Will’s attempts at wooing Hannibal were failed and misdirected. His smile faded but not disappeared completely, not to draw attention. Will didn’t want to appear over-eager and more interested then he really was. Yet, being rejected, in any capacity, hurt.

“Don’t pout, Will.” Hannibal said after a while, still seemingly more focused on his work than his model. Will frowned, but then turned away and looked through the window. He felt offended enough for the day. “How would you feel if I abandoned my work and ravished you, with the knowledge that you’re paid for being here?”

“Cheap.” Will dared say without hesitation. Then, he gave some thought to what Hannibal meant. “Like a street whore.” That wasn’t something Graham was trying to achieve so he adjusted the satin material so that it wouldn’t show the line of his cock. There was some honesty and peace in what Hannibal said.

Naturally, Will could have refused the money and let Hannibal fuck him like a normal person but he needed to be paid, especially since he was considering to forget about the FBI’s offer for good.

Then, an idea came to Will’s mind and he smiled. “Are you saying that would,” Will had to swallow before he could utter the words, “ _ravish_ me?”

“I will. If that’s what you want.”

That was too simple. Was Hannibal only playing a game with him?

“Do _you_ want to?”

“Yes.”

Oh. A wide smile appeared on Will’s lips and the man had to look down to hide his shy blush. He was not a man to be coy but there was something about his arrangement with Hannibal, and about Lecter himself, that made Will behave somewhat differently.

After another fifteen minutes, Will felt eager again. He looked at the clock and noticed that it was time for a break.

“Why don’t you give me a sample?” Graham asked.

“A sample?” Hannibal looked at him, finally, straight in his eyes and with his eyebrows raised in a question.

“Give me a taste of what awaits me.”

Hannibal smirked at the request and also looked at the clock. Then, he glanced at the painting and seemed to be calculating how much longer would it take to finish it. It turned out that Lecter might have not been as absorbed in his work as he appeared to be after all, as he put down the brush he was holding and stood up to approach Will on the couch.

Graham tensed slightly, unaware of Hannibal’s intentions, and watched the man sit at the end of the couch, where Will had his feet placed. The soft fabric dipped under Hannibal’s weight and for a few moments the man only looked at Will as if he was a sculpture, a masterpiece to admire and interpret.

The understanding came shortly and Hannibal’s gaze shifted to Will’s bare ankles. The satin material started a little below Will’s knees, leaving the calves and shins revealed. Hannibal moved his arm, reaching out with his hand to touch.

First, Lecter’s thumb played with Will’s toe. Then, the man seemed to gather courage, which he was not really short of, and moved his fingertips along the feet. Hannibal caressed the small dip and the bone right at the ankle. Will tried his best not to shiver but when Lecter’s palm moved higher, brushing the hair on Will’s legs, the man couldn’t hold back any longer.

The shivers and goose bumps indicated Will was ready and willing to throw the piece of satin away, to reveal every part of him, and open himself to pleasure he was hoping to experience from Hannibal.

Lecter noticed the way Will’s body was betraying his thoughts and wishes, and suddenly pulled away. He stood up from the couch, causing Will to open his mouth in a silent protest and confusion. Hannibal left the room before Will could form words to stop him. The man returned after a minute with two glasses of water, one of which he handed to Will, who took the glass silently, struck dumb by what was happening. Lecter sipped some water and then placed the glass on a small table by his stool. For a moment Hannibal watched Will, as the man gulped the water, and then sat down to continue his painting.

Will found it funny how the gesture actually seemed to cool the situation. He even remained in place for another quarter, until he felt that his legs went numb. Hannibal, of course, allowed another break and saw to it that Will changed his position, letting his legs move and regain normal circulation.

Not long after, Will shifted again, to his initial position on the couch, and adjusted the piece of satin that caressed his naked body with every move against his skin. Hannibal kept mixing the pain and bringing life to the canvas until he spotted Will yawn.

The clock read five minutes to eight, which meant there were only five minutes left before Will was free to go, or rather five minutes before Will was no longer paid for his presence at the warehouse. However, the yawn worried Hannibal. Will did not seem like someone who was impatiently waiting to get laid but rather as someone in need of good sleep.

Lecter felt his heart swell and his throat tighten as at that moment he wanted nothing more but to cover Will with a blanket and let him rest. He could imagine that lying purposeless on the couch could cause more exhaustion than running a few miles.

Hannibal put away the brush and covered the canvas with the painting. He approached the couch and sat again at the end of it, stroking Will’s feet, to the man’s amusement.

“I know you’re only teasing me.” Graham admitted with his eyes half-closed. “There’s still some time left before I’m off the clock.”

Hannibal only nodded and hummed, keeping his hands over Will’s soft skin. A minute passed and Will’s eyes closed completely. Lecter leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his model’s ankle and then he left the room to bring a blanket. He covered Will with it and waited a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of Graham’s chest as he breathed.

*     *     *

 Around ten, Hannibal heard Will inhale loud – a sign of waking up. Graham grunted when he realised he fell asleep and woke up in the warehouse. Then, he noticed the blanket over his body and then his attention was captured by Hannibal, who was sitting on his stool and finishing the painting.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep.”

“Why? Is there a place you need to be?” Hannibal kept his mask on, his eyes focused solely on his work.

“No. But I’m sure you have better things to do and maybe you need to rest. When is your first patient tomorrow?”

“I don’t have patients tomorrow, Will. But thank you for your concern.”

Will sat up, raised his arms and stretched, realising he was still naked under the blanket and the piece of satin.

“How long before you finish the painting?”

“Actually, I don’t think it should ever be finished.”

Will frowned at the words. He brushed off the blanket and wrapped himself in the satin material. With one step towards Hannibal, Will spoke again.

“Can I see it?”

Hannibal moved his head back a little, pretending to look at the painting form a distance to be able to judge what it was worth. Then, he put down the brush and nodded as a reply to Will’s question.

Graham took another step closer, and another, until he was standing beside Hannibal. Will’s mouth went dry and hung open in astonishment. The background was a mixture of white, gray and complete darkness. The light was coming from the place where the window was but it wasn’t included in the picture. The couch was gray, adding to the feeling of heaviness and pointlessness. Then, there was Will, whose brown hair and delicate complexion stood out in the general grayness. And then, the crimson piece of material, that was covering him and that was in the centre of the painting, caught Will’s attention. It made him seem alive and made him appear even more pale.

The colour ended right at Will’s ankles. From that place, straight to the right end of the painting, there were only the contours, the black and white unfinished shape of a god of a man.

“Do you like it?” Hannibal asked and stood up from the stool in a silent manner.

“I love it. This… Is this how you saw me?”

“Yes.” Hannibal replied simply and covered the canvas. “I’m going to show this painting to a few people and, hopefully, I will be allowed to exhibit it.”

At those words, Will was hit with a sad realization – the painting being finished, Will wasn’t needed anymore. He would be paid and let go. And the next day he would have to start again, he would have to seek a job and he would have to evaluate his life choices yet again.

“You weren’t so prudish before.” Hannibal remarked and placed his hand on the satin, where Will held the material so that it wouldn’t part and reveal his flesh. The blush on Graham’s face made him look even more like an innocent virgin that he was not.

“I, uh…”

“You changed your mind?” Hannibal asked and leaned in, scenting Will’s hair. Then, he moved his lips gently over the shell of Will’s ear.

“No.” Will breathed out, his eyes focused on the painting. It was magnificent. Will didn’t know much about art but he loved seeing himself presented in the way Hannibal saw him – raw, bloody and… seductive.

Hannibal pulled on the satin and made it fall on the floor, revealing Will completely. He was standing there, in all his glory and shame, as Hannibal kissed his neck.

Graham threw his head back, allowing more access, but his hands wandered to Hannibal’s shirt. Lecter bit gently with every button in his shirt being undone, which made Will bite his lower lip not to laugh or moan. When the shirt fell on the floor, right next to the crimson piece of satin material, Will grabbed Hannibal’s hips and guided him to the couch he had slept on.

“I could take you…” Hannibal spoke but could not finish his thought as Will lay on top of him.

“Take me.”

“Home. I could take you home.” Hannibal explained. “Somewhere more comfortable. Somewhere… Ah!”

Fuck it. Will unbuckled Hannibal’s belt and unzipped his trousers. They were going to have it and they were going to have it right there. That’s where they belonged.

Will pulled on Hannibal’s pants and managed to take them off and throw them on the floor, next to the couch. The underwear followed and with Hannibal being equally naked, Will proceeded to kissing Hannibal’s cock unceremoniously. Lecter was shocked as well as impressed by the way the things progressed and with no hesitation he reached out to bury his hand in Will’s hair as the other man started sucking him off.

“My dangerous boy.” Hannibal whispered and tried to keep focused on Will’s jaw working him with vigour.

Graham was gradually shaking off the remains of sleep and with the reality hitting him, he wondered if that was only one night stand and if, after they would finish, Hannibal would simply hand him the money and close the door. Not that Will was counting to start a relationship with a man he had posed for a few times.

Will pulled away and licked Hannibal’s cock from the base to the slit, where he kissed before he sat up.

“Lube?”

Hannibal grunted at the remark but of course they needed lube. He started to rise in order to bring a bottle but Will shoved him and leant close enough to whisper to Hannibal’s ear. “Just tell me where it is.”

“The second drawer from the top, just around the corner.”

With the last syllable uttered, Will jumped off the couch and left the room. He had never been in the other room but that was not the right time for sightseeing. He was going to get laid, be paid, and most probably leave. Simple as that.

Will reappeared with the bottle of lube and noticed a change in Hannibal. The artist did not seem horny and impatient but rather dumbstruck. He was watching Will with wild admiration and sparks in his eyes.

“What is it?” Will asked as he approached Hannibal.

“I don’t want it to be a quick fuck. I want to drown in you. I want to lose my head so badly I won’t be able to find a way back. I want to drink you and breathe with you. I’m sorry if I’m too much and if that scares you. But I figured it would be better if I was honest.”

It was Will’s time to appear dumbstruck. Lecter was an artist and a man of peculiar talents and interest. From the very beginning he acted all too sophisticated for Will’s taste but that little speech made Will confused even more.

“That’s… I… Alright.” Will looked down at himself and his hard cock that was starting to leak precum. “Listen, why don’t I ride you hard, get what I desperately need right now, and then we do it your way?”

The smirk on Hannibal’s face was the answer.

*     *     *

**_Three months later_ **

 

“There he is!” A lady in a navy blue dress exclaimed when Will appeared behind Hannibal. “Here comes the reason we’re here, celebrating beauty and art.”

Graham cleared his throat awkwardly as Hannibal turned to him and put an arm around his waist. The woman was about to start asking questions, one of them certainly broaching the circumstances in which Hannibal met Will, but a man, probably her husband excused grabbed her elbow and excused themselves.

Will smiled with feigned warm and politeness but was in fact happy she had to leave. Of course, he liked teasing people by talking about the hours he spent naked on Hannibal’s couch, but that evening he wanted to remain silent.

Hannibal guided him once again through the corridors of the gallery and finally, they stopped by the painting titled _The last gig_.

When Will first heard the name, he wanted to slap Hannibal but he couldn’t as he burst into laughter. ‘It doesn’t have to be the last one.’ Will remember one of them saying that but right now he couldn’t remember who it was. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that he was happy, with Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know there is no porn in that, BUT i actually hate to write porn, i cannot write porn and i wanted your imagination to do the job, sorry :/


End file.
